“Oh, you will both need biographers,” said Mrs. Pendleton, who was beginning to enjoy herself. “I will give you an idea. Join the Theosophists. Arrange for reincarnation. Come back in the next generation and write your own biographies. Then your friends and families cannot complain you have not had justice done you.”
“Ha! ha!” said Trent.
“You are as cruel as ever,” said Boswell, with a sigh. “Where is my ring?” he whispered.
“It was so large that I could not keep it on. I must have a guard made.”
“Dear little fingers—”
“You may never have been taught when you were a small boy, Mr. Boswell,” interrupted Trent, “that it is rude to whisper in company. Therefore, to save your manners in Mrs. Pendleton’s eyes, I will do you the kindness to prevent further lapse.” And he seated himself on the other side of Jessica and glared defiantly at Boswell.
“Mr. Severance and Mr. Dedham!”
Severance entered hurriedly. “I am so glad to hear—ah, Boswell! Trent!”
“How odd that you should all find your way here the very first evening of your arrival!” And Jessica held out her hand with a placid smile. Miss Decker was more nervous, but five seasons were behind her. “Ah!” continued Mrs. Pendleton, “and Mr. Dedham, too! This is a most charming reunion!”
“Charming beyond expression!” said Severance.